Loop-Hole
by ImagineThis22
Summary: Sherlock gets a HUGE surprise and Joan needs to find a way to help. How far will she go to help him? What will become of their relationship?
1. Chapter 1

**_THANK YOU FOR TAKING THE TIME TO READ ALL MY STORIES. I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS ONE! I'D LIKE TO THANK MARSHMALLOWDEVIANT FOR FINDING THIS IDEA ON TUMBLR! ENJOY!_**

"Sherlock, can we talk?" Gregson asked as soon as Sherlock showed up to the crime scene.

Sherlock nodded and they walked away from the chaos to speak in private.

"What's up, Captain?" Sherlock asked when they were out of ear-shot from the other officers at the scene.

"We've got a problem." Captain Gregson replied. He looked side to side to make sure nobody had heard him.

"What's that?" Sherlock asked in confusion.

"The INS called me today asking a lot of questions about you…" Gregson trailed off as an officer passed by, "Is there anything you want to tell me, Sherlock?" He asked when they were alone again.

Sherlock furrowed his brow and thought. "No…" He replied after a moment.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Why do you ask?" Sherlock stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall.

"They say that they need to meet with you. They wouldn't tell me why." Gregson paused to look over at his detectives working the scene. He looked back to Sherlock and gave him an accusing expression. "You haven't committed a crime that could get you deported, have you?"

"Of course not!" Sherlock scoffed. "Deported?!" He snorted. He lowered his voice as people started to stare. "I haven't done anything. I'm sure it's just a mix-up. It'll be cleared up by morning…Now, let's get back to the case. Your detectives look like they need _a lot_ of help." Sherlock smirked as he walked away, signaling that the conversation was over.

Gregson sighed as he watched the young consultant jump into his work like nothing had happened. "I hope you're right, Sherlock. I hope you're right."

…

*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*

Joan opened the door and peered out at the man in a suit. "Hello?"

"Hello, ma'am. Is there a Sherlock Holmes occupying this residence?" The man in the suit lifted his clipboard to make sure he got the name right.

"Oh, yes. He's been expecting you. Please come in." She replied with a smile and stepped aside so he could enter. After he was fully in the Brownstone, she closed the door behind him and led him to the kitchen where Sherlock was engulfed in cold case files.

"Mr. Holmes-" The man started.

"Ah yes, the man from the INS." Sherlock stood and extended his hand towards the man. "I'm Sherlock Holmes and you've met Ms. Watson."

The man shook Sherlock's hand and smiled. "My name is Trent Normand-"

"Well Mr. Normand," Sherlock cut him off, "what do you need?"

"I need to talk to you about a claim we received concerning yourself." Trent explained.

"Claim? What claim?" Sherlock asked in confusion.

"We got a report from someone about you. He said that you had kidnapped a man and tortured him in an empty warehouse." Trent read the claim off the clipboard in his hands.

Sherlock's mouth fell slightly open and before the man could notice, Sherlock recovered. "From whom did this claim arise?"

"That's classified. The source told us you kidnapped a man named Sebastian Moran and tortured him in a warehouse owned by your father. Is this claim true?"

"Yes, but-" Sherlock started to explain.

"But nothing. You just admitted to the claim, Sherlock. I'm sorry but deportation looks like a huge possibility for you." Trent cut him off.

"The charges were dropped…" Joan protested.

Trent waved her statement away. "Doesn't matter. He committed a crime and I don't know _how_ the charges were dropped but it was still a crime."

"What's going to happen to me then?" Sherlock tried not to show his concern but his voice wavered.

"I'll have to show this case to my boss. We should have an answer for you by morning." Trent extended his hand. "It was nice to meet you, Sherlock."

Sherlock glanced down at Trent's hand and turned away.

"I'll just let myself out…" Trent turned and began to leave the kitchen. Before he let himself out, he stopped in front of Joan. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Joan was confused.

"I'm sorry that I'm breaking you two up. This is the hardest part of my job."

Joan opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out.

"Have a nice night." Trent left before Joan could say anything else.

After Joan heard the door close and Trent was officially gone, Sherlock burst out laughing.

"Shut up." Joan snapped at Sherlock and glared.

"Awww is my girlfriend mad at me?" He asked in a smart-ass tone.

Joan picked up one of her sneakers by the wall and threw it at him.

Sherlock didn't see it in time and it hit him in the chest. "Ow! _Honey_ that hurt." He smirked.

Joan glared daggers at him and made her way up to her room.

"Goodnight sweetheart!" He called mockingly up the stairs.

Joan replied with a loud slam of her door. Even with the door closed, Joan could hear Sherlock's snickering downstairs. Maybe him being deported would be better for her…Too bad it would never happen…

…

Joan came down the stairs and went into the kitchen expecting to see Sherlock eating his cereal at the table. When she didn't find him there, she looked in the parlor. Sherlock was passed out on the couch with files on his chest and papers covering the ground. As she looked at him asleep on the couch she could tell he hadn't been sleeping for long. There were dark purple bags under his eyes indicating that he had been up all night and the papers covering the ground weren't organized which meant his mind was preoccupied with something else. She knew he was worried about being deported, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"Are you just going to stand there, Watson? Or are you going to get me my cereal?" Sherlock asked, opening one eye to look at her.

Joan felt herself blush at the thought of him knowing she was watching him. "You are perfectly capable of getting it yourself." She replied, trying to hide the blush.

He groaned in annoyance and rolled off the couch onto the floor. He stood up and groggily went to retrieve his cereal. "You're not a really great girlfriend, you know." He spoke as he prepared his cereal.

She rolled her eyes. "Are you seriously still making fun about what he said yesterday?"

Sherlock turned his head to smile at her and then returned to making his breakfast.

Joan felt a smile appear on her lips. She went to the fridge to start making her morning smoothie when the phone rang.

They looked at each other before Sherlock made his way to the phone. He looked up at her with a scared look and Joan gave him a supportive smile.

"Answer it. It'll be fine." Joan tried to reassure him but she knew the waver in her voice gave her away. She was nervous for him; she didn't want him to get deported.

Sherlock cleared his throat and put the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

Joan watched Sherlock's face to see if she could tell what the man on the other end was saying but he remained stoic.

"Uh-huh…Okay…I understand…Thank you." Sherlock hung up the phone and sat in a chair.

Joan pulled another chair out and sat next to him. "So?"

Sherlock didn't answer. He was staring at the floor and didn't seem to be all there.

"Sherlock?" Joan placed a hand on his arm and he flinched.

"Huh? Oh, sorry." Sherlock looked up at her with a glazed expression.

"So? What did he say?" Joan scooted closer to him and waited for his answer.

"I leave tomorrow morning for London." Sherlock's voice cracked and he swallowed. He looked up into her eyes and sighed, "I'm being deported."

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	2. Chapter 2

Joan was stunned. "What?"

"Do I really have to repeat it?" Sherlock stood and began walking, headed for his room.

Joan jumped up and followed, close on his heels. "I just don't understand…Can you even _be_ deported? I mean, you're only from London…"

"Anyone who isn't born an American citizen is considered an immigrant. The INS is very strict on those rules." Sherlock started to climb the stairs.

"But…but…" Joan stuttered.

"But nothing, Watson. I'm leaving and there is nothing you, or I, can do about it." Sherlock turned to face her when he was standing in front of the door to his room.

"But, Sherlock…You can't just give in! You have to fight for what you want!" Joan felt herself desperately trying to make him fight to stay. She didn't want him to leave…he was her only real friend.

Sherlock looked at his feet. "I'm sorry, Watson." He turned his back to her and opened his door. "I've got to pack."

"Sherlock-" She was cut off by him shutting the door in her face. Joan was scared. She didn't want him to leave her alone. She wanted to stay by his side as his partner…PARTNER! "That's it!" Joan ran down the hallway and into her room. She rummaged through the small jewelry box on her vanity and when she found what she was looking for, she slipped it on her finger. The piece of jewelry was a ring; a diamond ring. She had inherited it from her grandma when she passed away last December. It was supposed to be for the day she got married to her soul-mate but this was an emergency. Joan ran to Sherlock's door and was about to knock on it but hesitated.

_Should I tell him my plan? What would he say? Would he still leave?...Would he be mad?_

Joan decided against telling him and made her way towards the front door. She paused to dress herself in her coat and put more comfortable shoes on before setting out on her mission.

She hailed a cab and when one stopped, she got in, told him the INS' headquarters' address, and they were on their way.

After a short ride, the cab pulled over to the curb and she paid the driver.

"Thanks, keep the change." Joan handed over the money and smiled.

The man spotted the diamond ring and smiled. "Pretty ring. Your man must be loaded. You must be a very lucky girl."

She laughed. "Yep. I'm the _luckiest_ woman in the world…"

The man nodded and Joan exited the car.

She entered the large building and was surprised to see that it was somewhat empty. She waited in line for fifteen minutes listening to people in front of her fight with the man behind the counter about their expired licenses and how much they wanted to stay. The man wasn't hearing any of it; he was in a mood. Joan wouldn't have noticed this before working with Sherlock, but now she could spot out in a crowd what each person was feeling.

"Next."

Joan continued to stare at the floor, engrossed in her thoughts.

"_Next_."

Joan looked up and saw that it was her turn. "Oh, sorry." Joan stepped up to the counter and put on her best smile.

"What do you want?" The man asked in an impatient tone.

"I would like to speak to Trent Normand, please." She continued to smile and beg with her eyes.

The man grunted. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No…but-"

"But nothin'. You don't have an appointment so you don't get to see him." The man looked at the woman behind Joan. "Next."

"You didn't let me finish. I need to see him. It's an emergency."

"Don't care. Come back with an appointment and you'll get to talk to him." The man motioned the woman behind Joan to step forward. "_Next_."

"Wait." Joan blocked the woman's way. "Please. I'm begging."

"No. Leave." The man moved over to the next empty window and helped the woman.

Joan gritted her teeth. She was about to leave when something caught her eye. The man was _shaking_. It wasn't a regular response to anger... Realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

_He's going through withdrawal..._

"One more thing." Joan added.

The man glared at her from the next window. "What?" He demanded.

"I _think_ you should let me talk to him." She smirked.

"Oh, yeah? Why should I _let_ you?" The man seemed amused.

"Well it would be _terrible_ if your boss found out about your drug problem…wouldn't it?" She smiled as his amused smirk dropped.

"W-what?" He moved over to the window she was standing in front of.

"Well it would be tragic if your boss…well I don't know…found out about your dirty little secret." Joan watched his reaction closely to see if her observations were correct.

"Um…um…I don't-"

"And the way you are stuttering and starting to sweat would suggest that I'm right." Joan watched him look around in a panic.

"How did you…?" He wiped the sweat off his hands onto his jeans.

"Let's just keep this a secret, okay? I know that's what you want." Joan winked.

"Yes. _Please_. Thank you." He started to move on to the lady next to her.

"Wait, wait, wait. You're not off the hook yet. This can all go away once you agree to let me see Trent."

The man looked around to see if anyone was watching him before replying. "Alright, alright. His office is the second door on the left. Please don't tell anyone about this…okay?"

Joan nodded and walked away with a smug grin on her face. She went to the second door on the left and knocked.

"Come in!" Trent called from within.

Joan entered and Trent stood immediately.

"Joan…What are you doing here?" Trent asked.

"I didn't get to explain at the Brownstone…" Joan sat down in one of the two chairs placed in front of his desk.

"Explain what?" Trent asked suspiciously as he sat down.

Joan held up her hand and let him see the diamond ring.

"Is that…?" Trent started.

"A wedding ring? Yes it is." Joan smiled.

"You and Sherlock?" Trent leaned back in his chair and raised his eyebrows.

"Yes. I didn't get to explain. As you can imagine, this came as a huge shock to my husband and I."

"Hmmm…Do you mind if I ask Sherlock about all this?" Trent tried to strike fear into her, just in case she was lying to him.

"Not at all. We can discuss it over dinner tonight. Say…seven?" Joan stood.

"Um…sure." He walked her to the door. "I'll see you and your…husband…at your home at seven then."

"See you then." Joan exited and smiled to herself. Phase one, complete. Phase two, in progress.

Time to tell Sherlock.

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	3. Chapter 3

"Sherlock, can we talk?" Joan asked as she entered his room. He was still packing all his belongings into boxes and suit-cases.

"Last time I heard that, it didn't result in anything good…now did it?" He spat the last words in anger. He looked over to where she was standing and felt the anger disappear. "I'm sorry…" He looked down at the ground and fought with his feelings. He didn't want to seem too vulnerable but so far, he was failing. The sting in his eyes, alerting him to on-coming tears, was becoming unbearable but he couldn't cry here, not in front of Joan. "I just don't want to leave."

Joan walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm. "I know."

Sherlock looked up at her and tried a smile but it made the sting in his eyes even more unbearable. He looked down again as he felt his eyes well up with tears.

"That's why," Joan continued, "I'm not letting you leave."

Sherlock looked up at her with a suspicious look, tears gone. "What are you talking about?"

Joan smiled but didn't answer him. He was smart enough; she didn't have to tell him.

He narrowed his eyes. "What did you do?"

"Let's just say…I saved your butt. Now, get ready. Trent is coming over for dinner in about two hours." Joan winked. She turned and went downstairs to begin making dinner.

Sherlock stood thinking about what had just happened.

_What did she do? _

He began to get dressed in more appealing clothing while creating possibilities of what she had done. For the life of him, he couldn't think of at least one.

He trotted down the steps and entered the kitchen. He sat at the table and watched Joan, hunched over the stove.

She turned and frowned. "No, no. Get your butt off the chair and help me…_sweetheart_." She emphasized the last word with a smile.

Sherlock nearly fell off the chair in surprise. "What?"

"I _said_, help me." Joan smiled even wider and let a giggle escape.

Sherlock didn't hear her laugh. "No…after that." Sherlock walked up beside her and waited for an explanation.

She ignored him. Joan passed him a bowl with a mixture of egg whites, cake mix, and oil. "Mix this."

Sherlock received the bowl and grabbed a whisk. He started to mix it and neither one of them talked for awhile. Sherlock grew impatient. "You called me sweetheart…_Why_?"

"You forget…you called me darling yesterday. Why can't I call _you_ sweetheart?" Joan winked.

Sherlock felt nervous. She was up to something…

Joan reached for the bowl and was surprised when Sherlock grabbed her wrist.

"What is _that_?" Sherlock pointed to the diamond ring.

"Um…well…" Joan stalled. She didn't want Sherlock to find out like this. She was going to tell him right before Trent walked in the Brownstone so he would have no choice but to go along with it.

"You're stalling." Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Now either you got engaged then married to a man you just met in a time span of 3 hours…or, you did something terrible…"

Joan offered a wry smile.

"You didn't…" Sherlock looked into her eyes and glared. "You did!" He thrust her hand away and stormed out of the kitchen.

"Sherlock! Wait! Let me explain!" Joan ran after him and stumbled back in surprise when he suddenly stopped and turned to face her.

"Tell me _exactly_ what you did." Sherlock glared at her with an intensity Joan didn't know he possessed.

"After you slammed the door in my face, I got an idea. I went to my room and found my grandmother's ring…I put it on and headed for Trent's office. When I got there, the man behind the counter wouldn't let me see Trent…so…I blackmailed him…" Joan paused to see Sherlock's reaction.

"You _blackmailed_ him?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Well kind of…I deduced that he was going through withdrawal and told him that if he didn't let me see Trent, I would tell his boss about his drug problem…" Joan paused again.

"Is that all?" Sherlock crossed his arms.

"No…After I blackmailed him, I went into Trent's office and talked to him. I invited him to dinner and he accepted the offer. He's coming over at seven so we better finish making dinner…" Joan started to walk away but Sherlock's strong hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"That doesn't explain the ring, Watson."

Joan turned around and sighed. "I told him that we're married."

"And you never thought to run this idea past me?" Sherlock was irritated.

"Well I knew that you wouldn't go along with it! I was trying to help you! I thought that you would be proud that I thought up the perfect plan to help make you stay!" Joan took a step forward. "I was just trying to help." She ducked her head.

"I know…and I'm not mad."

"What?" She raised her head and looked into his sparkling grey eyes.

"I'm not mad." He smiled. "I'm impressed."

"What?" Joan repeated. She was confused.

"I just wish you would've consulted me first. I mean, we don't have a marriage certificate or any story of _how_ and _where_ we got married." Sherlock was calming down. Truthfully, he was flattered that she would risk fraud to keep him in America.

"Well you're a professional liar…I'm sure you can make something up." Joan smirked.

"Yes, but we both need to have the same story or it will seem suspicious. I can call one of my…colleagues…and get us a marriage certificate." Sherlock reached for his cell phone and scrolled through his contacts.

"A fake one?" Joan watched him as he dialed a number.

"Of course not, Watson. So I'd start going by the name of Joan _Holmes_." Sherlock smirked. He raised the phone to his ear and left Joan to gape in shock.

Joan wasn't expecting any of this. Somehow Sherlock had turned the tables against her. Now it was punishment _plus_ a mission. Sherlock was going to make her squirm…and he was going to enjoy it.

Sherlock returned with a smug smile. "Congrats Joan. You are now _officially_ Mrs. Joan Holmes."

"Where's the certificate?" Joan looked at his empty hands.

"Don't you know that everything is electronic these days?" Sherlock winked and sat down on the couch. "I'll rest here, _wife_, while you make dinner for our guest."

Joan scowled. "You are the worst." She walked into the kitchen and continued to make dinner.

"But you love me anyway!" Sherlock called from the parlor mockingly. He was enjoying this.

"So how did we fall in love…_husband_?" Her jaw locked on the word. She hated him for this but she also felt relief. If they pulled this off, Sherlock would be able to stay.

"I'll start thinking of a story now. I'll fill you in after you're done making dinner and setting the table." Sherlock sprawled out on the couch and began to think.

"But it'll be too late then." Joan mixed the spaghetti and put the cake in the oven.

"No, we'll have 20 minutes before he arrives." Sherlock stretched out even more and yawned.

A knock sounded at the door.

Sherlock sat up quickly and froze. "Unless he decides to show up early…"

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	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock jumped off the couch and ran into the kitchen. "What do we do? We're not ready!"

Joan had a look of terror on her face. "Do we pretend we aren't home?"

"He's probably already seen the lights on in the parlor…" Sherlock started pacing.

Another knock, harder this time, sounded at the door.

Joan swiftly left the kitchen and Sherlock followed close on her heels. "We have to let him in…"

Sherlock nodded slightly and bit his lip. "What are we going to do?"

"Lie our asses off." She muttered. Joan put her hand on the knob.

"This better work." Sherlock brushed his shirt with his hands to clean off the crumbs and dirt.

Joan took a deep breath and met his gaze. "Ready?"

Sherlock took a deep breath too and nodded. "Ready."

Joan opened the door and put on her best fake smile. "Hello, Trent."

Trent smiled. "Hello Joan, Sherlock. I'm sorry I'm so early…I was in the neighborhood."

"No worries." Joan opened the door wider and let him in. She closed the door behind him and Sherlock took his coat to hang it up.

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything…" Trent laughed and sat down on the couch.

Sherlock cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean…?"

"I knocked twice…I hope I didn't interrupt anything." Trent smiled.

"Oh…Oh! No. You didn't interrupt anything. I was just telling Sherlock that I heard someone knocking! He, of course, didn't believe me." Joan rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'm usually right darling." Sherlock countered.

Trent looked back and forth between them and shifted his posture on the couch, clearly uncomfortable.

Joan cleared her throat. "Well, I'll start setting the table…Dinner is almost ready." She turned to leave but paused. "I could use some help, dear." She nodded towards Sherlock.

"Oh, of course." He turned his head to look at Trent. "Make yourself comfortable. We'll call you in when the table is set and the meal is ready." Sherlock smiled and followed Joan to the kitchen.

When they were safely in the kitchen, Sherlock pulled Joan behind the divider between the kitchen and parlor.

"What was that?" Sherlock crossed his arms.

"What was what?" Joan asked innocently.

" 'I told him someone was at the door. Of course he didn't believe me.'" Sherlock imitated her voice mockingly.

"Well technically, it's not a lie. You never believe me." She smirked.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned to get the plates from the counter. He set them on the table as Joan got the spaghetti off the stove and the cake out of the oven. She set them on top of the cooling rack and got three glasses from the cupboard. Joan put the glasses by the plates Sherlock had set out. She made her way back to the counter to give the spaghetti one last stir as Sherlock walked up behind her.

Sherlock leaned in and whispered in her ear. "Don't freak out, okay?"

Joan was about to speak but was caught off guard when Sherlock planted a kiss on her cheek.

"I'm so lucky to have a wife as great as you." Sherlock gave her head another kiss and turned to the archway in the kitchen. "Oh, Trent. I didn't see you there…"

"Don't mind me. Smells good, Joan. You must be one hell of a cook." He smiled.

"Oh she is." Sherlock placed his arm around her shoulders and gave her a light shake to wake her from her shock.

"Oh, thank you." She gave a slight smile and brought the pot of spaghetti to the table. "Take a seat, Trent. Dinner is ready." She tried to look at Sherlock but he was too focused on putting the silverware out. Joan set the pot down on a hot-pad and was about to pull a chair out when Sherlock stopped her.

"Here, I got it." He pulled the chair out for her and she took a seat.

Trent smiled warmly and placed a napkin across his lap. "Do I just dig in?"

"Yes, please." Joan wanted everyone to just stop talking. She was regretting doing this for Sherlock. She had never told a lie this big to anyone, especially not someone who could ruin her life completely. She didn't want Sherlock acting so sweet and lovey-dovey, and really didn't want Trent to see how uncomfortable she was.

Trent loaded his plate with spaghetti and took a huge bite. "Mmmm." He nodded and swallowed. "This is good, really good."

"It really is." Sherlock nodded in agreement. He took another bite and smiled.

Joan nodded and looked down at her plate. She twirled her fork around in the noodles and zoned out.

Trent wiped his mouth with his napkin and sighed. "Alright, as good as that was, I need to start assessing this situation."

Joan snapped out of it and looked up.

"So my first question is, are you two committing fraud so Sherlock doesn't have to leave the country?" Trent laid his hands on the table.

"What? No. What would make you think that?" Sherlock asked in fake state of shock.

"Well for one, you introduced her as _Ms. Watson_, not Mrs. Holmes when I first came here." Trent arched his eye brows and grinned internally. He thought he had uncovered their little sham.

"Well the reason for that is, nobody knows about it yet." Sherlock looked to Joan for help.

"That's right. Nobody, not even my family, knows yet. You see, we eloped so we wouldn't have to deal with the family drama." Joan reached across the table and took Sherlock's hand. She felt him tense up at first but after a moment, he relaxed under her touch.

He squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed her hand and smiled. "We were planning on telling my family and her family next week over dinner. We didn't know that something like this would come up though." He lowered their intertwined hands to the table but kept a firm hold on her small hand.

"Okay…Would you be able to produce a copy of your marriage certificate?" Trent clenched his fists. He knew, deep down, that they were lying.

"Of course. I could show it to you now if you'd like." Sherlock pulled out his phone from his pocket.

"That would be great, thank you." Trent received the phone and peered at it skeptically. "So, how long have you two been married?"

"Two months." Joan replied as Sherlock squeezed her hand twice, informing her of the right answer.

"Hmmm." Trent locked Sherlock's phone and put it on the table. He bit the inside of his mouth and thought of another question.

Sherlock looked at Joan and nodded with a smile on his face. He wanted her to be reassured about the whole lying situation. He knew she was uncomfortable with everything.

"Who married you two?" Trent asked.

"Mr. Ryan Owen. Call him if you don't believe us." Sherlock nodded towards his phone.

"No, that's alright." Trent stood. "Dinner was great, Joan. We should do this again."

"Well, no offense, but I hope we don't." Sherlock laughed.

"He means that he doesn't want to go through this again. Deportation scares him and me. I couldn't bear to be without him." Joan explained as she saw Trent's confused expression. Joan was serious; she was scared that he would be deported. She didn't want him to leave her.

"Well, we might have to." Trent walked towards the counter and began cutting the unfrosted cake.

"Why?" Sherlock stood, still holding Joan's hand.

"Well to tell you the truth, I don't believe you at all. It's extremely easy these days to fake a marriage certificate and the fact that you haven't told your family that you two are _married_ is extremely suspicious…and unbelievable." Trent turned around and took a fork-full of cake. He lifted it to his mouth and ate it.

"Like my wife said, we didn't want to deal with the family drama so we eloped. What is so hard to believe?" Sherlock kept holding Joan's hand as she rose from her chair and stood beside him.

"What is hard to believe is that nobody knows about you two and you don't have anything from your so called 'wedding' to show me." Trent placed the empty plate on the table and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"We could find pictures…" Joan tried but Trent put his hands up to stop her.

"No. Don't even. You're lying and you know it." Trent took a step towards them and narrowed his eyes. "Trust me, once I get evidence to support that I'm right about this marriage being a sham, I will take you both down. Joan will go to jail for fraud and Sherlock will be deported back to London. You may be safe for now Sherlock, you may have found a loop-hole, but you will never get away with this. I will expose you two…no matter how long it takes, I will expose you two as the frauds you are."

Joan turned pale and Sherlock squeezed her hand to give her reassurance.

"I think you should leave." Sherlock glared at Trent.

Without another word, Trent turned and left the Brownstone.

Joan stood, frozen in place. "I'm going to jail…that's it…I'm going to jail for the rest of my life."

"No you're not." Sherlock let go of her hand and turned her towards him. "I'll make sure you don't go to jail." He placed his hands on her shoulders and she looked up into his eyes. "Don't worry, Joan. I'll tell him that it was my idea and you had no part in it. You will _not_ go to jail because of me." He turned to go after Trent and explain everything but Joan grabbed his arm.

"No. I got us into this…I'm going to get us out of it." Joan grabbed his hand and smiled.

Sherlock replicated her smile. "We'll both get each other out of this." He squeezed her hand back.

"I mean, we're Holmes and Watson…we can fool anyone." Joan winked.

Sherlock grinned. "Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, the perfect team."

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	5. Chapter 5

"Morning." Sherlock looked up from his cereal and addressed his partner.

"Morning." Joan replied groggily and ran a hand through her jet-black hair. She made her way to the fridge and yanked it open. She groaned when she saw they were out of fruit.

"What's the matter?" Sherlock asked from close behind. He had gotten up and was standing behind her.

Joan jumped in surprise. "Oh my gosh, I didn't even hear you get up!" She placed her hand over her heart and felt it beating fast. She turned back around and shut the fridge. "I'm going to get you a bell to wear around your neck."

Sherlock cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow. "Why?"

"To hear you when you move so you don't scare me like that…" she watched his confused expression remain on his face, "it's a joke…just forget it." Joan turned and opened the cupboard to look for cereal.

"Why did you groan?" Sherlock remained in the same place he had been standing. He stared at the back of her head and his eyes started to travel down her back, taking in her curves, thighs…

Joan turned and saw Sherlock's eyes dart up into hers. Joan gave him a questioning look and decided to not ask about it. "I groaned because we don't have fruit…I kind-of wanted a smoothie before my run." She held up a box of his favorite cereal. "Can I have some of this?"

"Of course, Watson! You don't need to ask me." He started to turn around to get back to eating his cereal but stopped and turned back towards her. "If you really want a smoothie, you could go to the corner diner..." He watched her surprised expression, "I could accompany you if you'd like…" He rocked back on the balls of his feet.

"Sure. Just give me a few minutes to get ready." Joan headed for the stairs.

"You're not dressed…?" He looked her up and down. She was wearing a black skirt with a grey V-neck and white tank top underneath.

"I need to comb my hair and put on makeup." Joan replied, starting to climb the stairs.

"You don't need to…you look beautiful." Sherlock looked at the floor, embarrassed by what he had just blurted out.

Joan smiled and paused on the stairs. "I think that is the first compliment you have ever given me."

Sherlock ran his hand through his messy hair nervously. "I have to start acting like a husband if we want to trick Trent. I'm practicing for when Trent is over, I don't mean it." Sherlock wished he could take it back as soon as he had said it. He was so nervous around her lately and found it hard to stop himself from saying everything on his mind.

"And there's the Sherlock I know and love." Joan mumbled sarcastically. She climbed the stairs and headed for the bathroom.

Sherlock smacked himself in the head a few times. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Why had he even said that? She did look beautiful, she always did.

Joan returned and found that Sherlock had been waiting at the front door. He was holding her coat and helped her put it on when she reached the bottom of the stairs.

"About what I said, I-" Sherlock started to explain his mistake as she put her ear-muffs on.

"Just forget it." Joan pushed the door open and they descended the steps to get to the sidewalk.

Sherlock opened the gate for her and Joan stepped out onto the sidewalk. Sherlock followed close behind. They walked in silence and Sherlock could practically _feel_ the tension in the air.

When they reached the diner, Sherlock tried to open the door for her but she pushed it open herself. She let it slam behind her and Sherlock closed his eyes.

_She is pissed._

Joan took a seat a booth by the window and picked up the menu. She held it up to block Sherlock out.

Sherlock joined her in the booth and sat across from her. He sighed when he noticed she was holding up the menu to make sure he couldn't see her and she couldn't see him. "Joan…"

Joan ignored him. The waiter came over and took their order. Joan ordered a strawberry-lime smoothie and Sherlock got coffee. Joan continued to look at the menu so she didn't have to look at Sherlock.

"Joan, we're supposed to be acting like we're married…" Sherlock spoke timidly from behind her menu.

She laid the menu down on the table and glared at him. "Don't worry, we only have to _pretend _when Trent is around."

Sherlock was hurt and his expression must've showed it because Joan stopped glaring at him. She sighed and he tried an apology. "I didn't mean it this morning, Joan. I'm really sorry. This whole situation…it's just got me on edge."

Joan crossed her arms. "You think it's _easy_ for me? You don't think _I'm_ on edge? I've never been married; I don't know how to act!"

"I know how you feel. The closest I got to getting married was with Irene…I don't know how to act married either. I'm trying my best; I'm not really good with romantic situations…" Sherlock blushed a little and looked down at his hands.

Joan sighed in defeat. It was so hard to stay mad at him when he acted like this. He was so vulnerable and the fact that he was so comfortable with her to bring up Irene made Joan feel like Sherlock _trusted_ her. She reached across the table and took his hand. He didn't tense up at her touch.

Sherlock looked into her deep brown eyes and smiled. He was about to speak but he heard his name being called from across the diner.

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock turned his head towards the voice and he froze.

Trent made his way across the diner and pulled a chair up to the table. He sat down and smirked. "Funny seeing you guys here."

"Are you following us?" Joan asked suspiciously.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at Trent. "He is."

"Well I need to keep an eye on my favorite _couple_." Trent smiled menacingly.

Joan thought over all that had happened at the diner and hoped he hadn't heard their conversation.

Sherlock felt Joan tense up and ran his thumb back and forth on her hand to calm her down.

"That's a good idea, stalk two consulting detectives who work with the NYPD." Sherlock continued to glare at Trent's amused expression.

The waiter brought their drinks and did a double take towards Trent. The waiter looked at Joan for an answer.

"He's not with us, he doesn't need anything. Just an old friend we ran into here." Joan spoke through gritted teeth.

The waiter nodded and went back behind the counter.

"I'd like to be alone with my wife, please." Sherlock was still glaring at Trent.

"Of course…but before I go, how about planning our next dinner together?" Trent smirked.

"I don't think so." Sherlock took a drink of his coffee.

"Well that's too bad." Trent stood and put the chair back at the table he had taken it from. "Oh, one more thing…" He placed a sheet of paper on the table.

Joan picked it up and her jaw dropped. "We're required to consent to a house search?"

"Required by whom?" Sherlock asked Trent.

"The state of New York. I explained your case to my boss and he made a few calls. They also believe that the both of you are committing fraud." Trent looked from Joan to Sherlock.

Joan passed the sheet to Sherlock and they exchanged a worried look. "When?" Sherlock asked.

"How about later today?" Trent asked with a smirk still plastered on his face.

"Well we'll have to see if a case comes up…" Joan started.

"Don't worry, I'll call your work and tell you that you have a previous engagement." Trent pulled out his cell. He looked up the NYPD office number (Gregson) and nodded. "See you at 4pm." He walked out of the diner, still on the phone.

Sherlock placed the sheet on the table and looked at Joan.

Joan's eyes were wide with terror. "What are we going to do?"

Sherlock looked at his watch. "Its 10am now, we have six hours to transform the Brownstone into a married couples home. We better get going." Sherlock stood and placed a tip down on the table. He took the bill and paid as Joan gulped down her smoothie.

He looked around to see if Trent was watching, but decided to play it safe. He offered his arm to Joan and she gladly took it. They walked out of the diner and made their way to the Brownstone.

They _had_ to pull this off.

_**THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE REVIEW AND FAVORITE/FOLLOW.**_

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	6. Chapter 6

Trent knocked on the door to the Brownstone and grinned. He thought he had them now. They would never be able to transform the house from its former state into a married couple's home in such a short amount of time.

Joan opened the door with a smile. "Hello, Trent." Her gaze drifted to the man standing behind Trent. "You are?"

"Noah Cambride." Noah stepped out from behind Trent and smiled. "I'm Trent's boss. He asked me to accompany him to search your home…I hope that's quite alright." Noah outstretched his hand to her.

Joan shook his hand. "Of course it's alright. The more the merrier!" Joan motioned for them to come inside and they obliged. Once they were inside, Joan shut the door and took their coats to hang up.

"Where's Sherlock?" Trent asked with a smirk. _Probably hiding from the truth_, Trent thought to himself.

"My _husband_ is getting dressed into more suitable clothes." Joan shot a glare in Trent's direction when Noah was observing some photos in the parlor. Truth is, Sherlock was upstairs- not getting dressed- but instead, he was finishing adding his stuff to Joan's room. They had spent all afternoon combining their rooms, taking apart Sherlock's bed, and taking photos to put on the walls. While Sherlock was upstairs taking apart the bed, Joan had been hanging the photos of them hugging and had even gone so far as to change the computer's desktop background to a photo of them cuddling and Sherlock kissing Joan's cheek. Now, Joan thought, the house _seemed_ to be a married home. Hopefully Noah thought that too.

"Where was this?" Noah asked, holding up a photo of Sherlock and Joan smiling wide and sitting on the couch.

"My place. It was on the day he asked me to marry him." Joan smiled lovingly at the photo. It was actually a photo of them on the day Sherlock asked Joan to be his partner. The happiest day of Joan's life…

"He asked you at your house?" Trent asked suspiciously.

"No, of course not. He took me to the opera and then we went to dinner after. He got down on one knee in front of the whole restaurant and proposed. It was the happiest day of my life." Joan repeated the story she and Sherlock had rehearsed before Trent and Noah arrived.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting." Sherlock spoke as he descended the stairs. He outstretched his hand to Noah and smiled, "I'm Sherlock Holmes, and you are?"

"Noah Cambride." He shook Sherlock's hand and replicated his smile.

"So what are we talking about?" Sherlock looked at Joan and arched his brows.

"I was just telling them about the happiest day of my life." Joan nodded towards the photo.

"You mean the happiest day of _our_ lives." Sherlock walked over to Joan kissed her cheek.

This time, Joan didn't freeze up.

"I don't see why Trent thinks you two are lying," Noah glanced at Trent, "but we've got to make sure. Cover all our bases, if you will." Noah laughed.

"Baseball fan?" Joan laughed back.

"How did you know?" Noah joked.

"Yankee's or Met's?" Joan asked. She was really getting into the conversation. She didn't have anyone close to her to talk about sports with, seeing as she never saw her friends anymore and Sherlock didn't care for baseball.

"Met's." Noah grinned.

"Yes! Finally! Sherlock doesn't like to watch with me, he says it's too predictable." Joan rolled her eyes.

"Can we get back to the house search, please?" Trent interrupted.

"Oh, yes. Sorry. Got a little off track there." He looked to Sherlock, "Would you like to begin the tour?"

"Where do we start?" Sherlock took Joan's hand in his.

"How about here in the hallway? Explain some of these photos to us." Noah gestured towards the pictures on the walls in the hallway.

"I don't remember seeing these the last time I was here…" Trent spoke as he took in the wall of photos.

"You really didn't get to be in the hallway. You entered the kitchen from the parlor, not the hallway." Joan thought up the lie quickly. She forgot that he had been in the house before.

"Hmm." Trent eyed the pictures suspiciously. "I don't see any wedding photos…"

"That's right…Where are they?" Noah asked.

"Uh…I thought that I put them out…" Joan stuttered. She looked to Sherlock for help.

"Put them out…? What do you mean?" Noah asked, now suspicious.

"Um…Trent wanted proof so I…uh…found them and put them out. They're here somewhere." Joan pretended to look through a stack of photos by the bookshelf.

Trent smirked. He had them.

Sherlock noticed that Joan was struggling and needed him. "He did want proof. I told Joan to find them and put them out."

Noah looked back and forth between them. He turned to look at Trent. "Did you ask for proof?"

"Yes, but do you see them? I sure don't." Trent crossed his arms.

"Are they out here or not?" Noah looked to Joan.

"I can't seem to find them…" Joan looked through the stack of photos again. Her hands were shaking and she tried to hide it by shuffling the pictures in her hand.

"No proof then." Trent pointed out.

"True. Can you give us any proof other than a marriage certificate?" Noah asked, arms crossed.

Sherlock looked at Joan. She was frozen with a 'deer caught in the headlights' look. "No, but we could find the pictures and call you when we do…"

Noah was about to tell them that that was alright when Trent butt in.

"If we leave, they're just going to take some photos and pass them off as their wedding photos from two months ago." Trent blurted out. "They're lying! They are committing fraud! Can't you see it? It's so obvious!"

Joan's hand gripped Sherlock so tight that Joan was sure Sherlock was in pain. If he was, he didn't show it.

"Now I can see why you think that they are lying Trent." Noah looked at the two consulting detectives standing before him. "This is the time to confess. Trust me, it'll be better for you to do it sooner rather than later. If you continue to lie, the punishment will be worse. So? What do you say? Are you ready to confess?"

"We're married. We don't have photos right now to show you and I'm sorry about that. I can promise you that we are, indeed, married. What can we do to show you that we are not lying?" Sherlock let Joan's hand go and flexed his fingers. Her grip was strong and his hand had begun to cramp.

Joan felt her body shaking. _This is it. We're dead. I'm going to die in jail._

"You're not married and we both know it. Time to give up on this little charade Sherlock." Trent smiled menacingly.

Joan had heard enough. It was time to stand up for herself and Sherlock. "There is no charade. I love my husband more than anything in the world. He is my life and I cannot bear to lose him. Please, I'm begging you to believe us. I don't know how to make you believe us, but I'll do anything to help you." She looked at Noah. "_Please_."

"There is a solution…if you really _are_ married…" Noah looked at Trent.

"What? You're helping them?" Trent was mad.

"Of course not. If they really have been married, they wouldn't mind doing it again, would they?" Noah looked to Joan for an answer.

"Do what again?" Joan asked nervously.

Sherlock turned to Joan. "I believe he wants us to get married, _again_."

"That's not a problem…is it?" Trent smirked.

Sherlock glared at Trent.

Joan felt that all eyes were on her and she didn't like it. Say yes and continue to dig themselves into a hole of lies that could eventually get them caught and sent to jail or say no and go to jail right away. She looked from Sherlock to Trent to Noah. She took a deep breath and made a decision.

"It's not a problem." Joan looked to Sherlock. "Let's get married…again."

_**THANKS FOR READING! WE ARE GETTING TO THE GOOD PART...AND THE ENDING :( FEW MORE CHAPTERS THOUGH! **_

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	7. Chapter 7

Trent leaned back in the dining room chair and put his hands behind his head. "It would've been easier to just admit to your guilt."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "What guilt?"

"You're just digging yourself into a deeper hole. I hope you know that you're making this worse for Joan. She's the one going to jail when this whole thing blows up." Trent smirked.

"She isn't going to jail because we _aren't_ faking." Sherlock glanced towards the parlor where Noah was speaking with Joan.

"If you really care for him Joan, you'll let him go." Noah spoke softly to Joan.

"I'm not letting my husband go. He has been in this country for six months without incident, why did this just come up now?" Joan didn't like to be questioned like this. It made her feel like she was going to give something away and they would be caught in their lie.

"We got an anonymous tip from someone saying he held a man hostage and tortured him. This is not acceptable." Noah clasped his hands together and leaned forward. "Is he making you do this?"

"No! Of course not. I love him to death. Besides, the charges were dropped against him." Joan looked towards the kitchen. Oh how she wanted Sherlock beside her right now.

"Still. He tortured someone, Joan. He doesn't seem stable…you could be in danger yourself." Noah got up from his seat and sat next to her. "Are you sure you want to do this, Joan?"

"I've never been so sure in my life. If this is going to finally make you believe that we are telling the truth then I'll do it a million times if I have to." Joan looked him in the eyes to really sell it. "I love him with all my heart."

"I believe you. You've told us that a million times, yet he hasn't said it once." Noah pointed out.

Joan thought about it. What he said was true. Sherlock hasn't said anything about loving her. Joan knew why though. His heart still belonged to someone…Irene.

Noah noticed her pause and took advantage of it. "You see my point. How do you know that this whole marriage is even real? For all you know, he could've just asked you so he could stay in the country. Maybe he knew that we were going to come after him for something and took advantage of your emotions…" He trailed off.

"No. He loves me. I'm going to marry him again and prove it to you." Joan stood up and walked into the kitchen. "You're done here, Trent. Get out." She demanded.

"Excuse me? Who the hell do you think-" Trent was cut off my Noah butting in.

"Trent let's go. We are done here. Joan has some things to think about." Noah nodded in Joan's direction and turned to leave. Trent reluctantly followed him out of the Brownstone.

When Sherlock was positive that they were gone, he stood up. "Thank you for that. A little longer and I would've slugged him…" Sherlock chuckled. He thought about what Noah had said before he left, "What did he mean by 'Joan has some things to think about'?"

"Nothing." Joan opened the cupboard where they had hidden the drill and retrieved it. "We might as well put your bed back together."

"About that…I don't think we should."

"What do you mean?" Joan narrowed her eyes.

Sherlock darted his eyes between the drill and Joan. "How about you put the drill down…I don't want you to drill my eyes out…" Sherlock reached for it but Joan pulled it out of reach.

She shook her head. "No, no. Tell me."

Sherlock sighed and looked at the drill once more. "You are clearly not comfortable with me yet."

"So?" Joan shrugged.

"_So_? We are supposed to be _married_, Joan. We can't have you be uncomfortable around someone who is supposed to be your _husband_." Sherlock scoffed.

"And what about you?" Joan set the drill down and looked at the table to avoid his eyes.

"What about _me_?" Sherlock kept his eyes locked on her.

"Noah brought up something interesting…I've told them that I love you so many times…but you have yet to say it even once." Joan crossed her arms and glared.

Sherlock opened his mouth to protest. "I…um…"

Joan raised her eyebrows.

"You're right…" Sherlock gave up. It was no use arguing when he knew that it was the truth.

Joan reached for his hand and squeezed it. "But I understand why. Your heart belongs to someone else and I respect that…I'm just saying that in order to trick them, we need to be on the same page. I'm just asking for you to start saying it around them so they believe us…You don't have to mean it."

"Do you mean it?" Sherlock regretted asking the question as soon as it was out in the open. "Forget it…" Sherlock pulled his hand from hers and walked into the parlor.

Joan stood, frozen. What did he just ask? If she really meant it? Did she? She didn't even know. This was getting so messed up. It had started as a plan to help Sherlock stay in the country. Get married, quickie divorce after a year, and he would be safe to stay. Now the whole plan was a mess of jumbled emotions. Joan felt something everytime she told Noah and Trent she loved Sherlock…Did she really mean it? No. No, Sherlock is her friend…nothing more. Joan looked towards the parlor. He can't be more than a friend. He is too broken…but…so is Joan. They get each other and make the perfect team. Could a relationship really work between them? So many questions, so little answers.

Joan closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

_Stick to the plan, Joan. This is a favor for a friend. _

Joan broke away from her thoughts and walked into the parlor to find Sherlock sprawled out on the couch.

"You know we're going to have to start planning the wedding…right, Joan?" Sherlock spoke behind closed eyes. He had heard her click across the wood flooring and heard her pause in the doorway. He didn't need to open his eyes to know she was there, watching him.

"Yes, I know…Noah said that we would have to have witnesses other than them." Joan started to walk over to the couch adjacent to Sherlock's when he suddenly sat up straight.

Sherlock patted the cushion beside him and Joan sat down beside him. "Witnesses?"

"Yes. Each wedding needs at least two. It cannot be a family member and it cannot be Noah or Trent." Joan brought her knees up and turned her body to face him.

"Then who?" Sherlock furrowed his brow.

"I was thinking about inviting Gregson or Bell…or both…" Joan was cautious. She didn't know how Sherlock was going to react.

"Both." Sherlock replied calmly.

"What?" Joan wasn't expecting him to be so calm with the suggestion. They were his colleagues- _their_ colleagues now- and she thought Sherlock would be more nervous with them there.

"You said we needed two witnesses…Bell plus Gregson equals two, honey." Sherlock smiled.

"I know…I'm just surprised that you're okay with it. I thought you'd be embarrassed to tell them…" Joan couldn't help smiling at Sherlock's playful attitude.

"Why would I be embarrassed? I'm marrying the love of my life." Sherlock winked playfully.

Joan couldn't help but smile even more. Her smile vanished, "Oh, crap."

Sherlock's expression turned serious. "What?"

"What am I going to tell my parents?" Joan groaned and leaned her head back on the couch with her eyes closed.

"Don't tell them anything." Sherlock shrugged.

"I have to. Noah said he wants the families to be there." Joan rubbed her eyes.

"Well, knowing my father, I will not have _any _part of my family there…" Sherlock muttered. "I suppose I could hire Alistair…I mean, if Alistair tricked you, he could certainly trick Noah and Trent."

Joan shot him a glare.

"It's a compliment!" Sherlock reassured her.

"How?" Joan softened her glare.

"You're the smartest person I know…If Alistair could trick you, he can trick those two idiots." Sherlock laughed.

Joan found it hard to stay mad at him. She smiled and that smile turned into full on laughter.

They sat there laughing for a while before Joan brought up another good point.

"What about a dress? I can't afford anything fancy…I suppose I could ask my mom if I could wear hers…" Joan's face showed disgust.

"What's the matter? Don't want to wear your mothers dress?" Sherlock had a hint of a smile on his lips.

"No. It so _old_ and _traditional_." Joan moaned in displeasure.

"If you don't want to wear it, why didn't you just tell me? I can certainly buy you one. Money is of no object. How about one from Paris? Or London? Rome?" Sherlock offered.

"No, I can't take your money. It's just a dress that I'm going to wear for a day…It doesn't have to be expensive." Joan hugged her knees to her chest.

"Well that doesn't mean I still can't buy you one. I want you to be happy." Sherlock pushed hair out of Joan's eyes. He put it behind her ear and his hand lingered for a moment before pulling back.

"Thank you…for everything." Joan smiled.

"Don't thank me. I should be thanking you. You're the one committing a crime that could end up putting you in jail all to save me from deportation."

"You're right. You _should_ me thanking me." Joan smirked.

He laughed. "Thank you, Joan. I owe you." Sherlock took her hand and kissed it softly.

Joan watched him lower her hand from his mouth. "I know."

_**THANK YOU FOR READING! I KNOW SHERLOCK IS A LITTLE OUT OF CHARACTER BUT IT'S HARD TO WRITE THE SHERLOCK YOU ALL KNOW AND LOVE IN ROMANTIC SCENES WITHOUT MAKING HIM ALL LOVEY-DOVEY. ;D **_

_**PLEASE FAVORITE/FOLLOW AND REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**I'M SORRY IT TOOK A FEW DAYS TO UPDATE…I HAVENT BEEN FEELING TOO WELL :(**_

Joan opened her eyes to find herself looking at the dividing wall of pillows she had built between her and Sherlock in the bed. She had been too uncomfortable and Sherlock had come up with the bright idea to separate their bodies with pillows until Joan was more comfortable with him. Joan propped herself up on her elbow just enough to see that Sherlock was still fast asleep on the other side of the pillow-wall. She held her breath and silently made her way off the bed to the door. She slowly opened the door and when it creaked, she winced.

_Don't wake up…Don't wake up. _Please _don't wake up._

She turned around and sighed in relief when she found Sherlock still in a deep sleep. Joan slipped into the hallway and crept down the stairs.

Sherlock was an extremely light sleeper so he, of course, heard Joan get up. He had pretended to still be sleeping to spare them the awkwardness of the previous night's events. He knew she was uncomfortable sleeping with him and he had finally persuaded her to get off the couch and come to bed with him. He looked up at the ceiling and listened for any noises downstairs.

Joan made her way to the kitchen and made some cereal. She had to admit, Sherlock's cereal obsession was rubbing off on her. Joan went to the parlor and found the remote. She snuggled up on the couch with her cereal and turned on the T.V.

Sherlock heard the noises from the T.V. and decided it was time to get up. He walked downstairs loudly to alert her to his presence. He knew how much Joan hated him sneaking up on her.

"Morning." He strode into the parlor and stopped behind the couch she was sitting on.

Joan looked behind her. "Morning." She turned back to the T.V. and tried to ignore him.

Sherlock made his way around the couch and took a seat next to her. "You shouldn't feel so uncomfortable." He looked to her, but her gaze was glued to the T.V. "We didn't do anything. We just slept in the same bed, Joan. It's not that big of a deal."

Joan kept her gaze towards the T.V. "Forgive me, but it's just really weird. You were my client and now you're my partner…"

"Friend."

Joan looked over at him, surprised. "What?"

"I'm your friend." Sherlock smiled. He looked away after a moment and cleared his throat. "So, how about we get your dress today?"

"I told you. I'll wear my mom's. I don't want to take your money." Joan got up to put her bowl in the sink. She heard Sherlock following close behind her.

"And I told _you_, I'm buying you one because I want you happy." Sherlock watched as she turned around with a smile on her face.

"Okay, fine. We also need to contact my family and your family to explain the details of our wedding." Joan leaned back on the counter. "Not looking forward to that…" She muttered to herself.

"Well we already know my father won't be joining us…What about Bell and Captain Gregson?" Sherlock joined her leaning on the counter.

"What about them?"

"We have to invite them, don't we?"

"Yes, but I'm letting you do that." Joan smirked at how Sherlock tried to protest.

"But-but-"

"No but's. I have to go through Hell by telling my parents so you're going through Hell too by telling your colleagues."

"They're your colleagues too." Sherlock pouted.

Joan glared at him.

Sherlock was defeated. "Fine." He crossed his arms.

Joan smiled. He looked like a little kid who had just been refused a new toy. She moved so she was standing in front of him. She arched one eyebrow. "You're acting like you're a five year-old."

Sherlock frowned and continued to pout.

Joan laughed. "Fine! I'll come with you to tell Captain Gregson and Detective Bell."

Sherlock perked up and a smile lit up his face. "Thank you!" He bounded out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs to get dressed.

Joan rolled her eyes. "Like I said…five year-old."

…

Sherlock stepped off the NYPD elevator and headed towards Captain Gregson who was conversing with Detective Bell. Joan trailed close behind Sherlock and had to practically jog to keep up with is stride.

"Holmes…Ms. Watson…What are you doing here? We don't have a case…" Gregson addressed them as they came nearer.

"May we speak with you two in your office?" Sherlock looked from Gregson to Bell.

Gregson nodded and they made their way to his office. When they had all piled in, Gregson shut the door. "What is it?"

"We'd like to invite you…" Sherlock panicked, "to an event…"

Detective Bell waited for Sherlock to continue but he didn't. "Care to elaborate?"

"Um…" Sherlock looked to Joan with a worried expression.

Joan rolled her eyes and lifted her hand so they could see the ring.

"Woah, who's the lucky man?" Detective Bell smiled.

Joan smiled and looked at Sherlock.

"Me." Sherlock croaked. This was harder than he thought.

Detective Bell laughed. "I knew it! I knew there was something between you two!" He looked to Gregson, "Pay up."

"You had a bet going?" Joan spoke up in disbelief.

"Of course! It was so obvious!" Detective Bell's amused expression disappeared when he noticed Gregson hadn't been smiling.

"Captain?" Sherlock had noticed that Gregson hadn't said anything.

"Is something wrong?" Joan asked.

"Yes…" Gregson crossed his arms, "I assume you already know fraud can put you both in jail." Captain Gregson sat on the desk.

Joan and Sherlock exchanged a look of shock. How had he found out?

"I'm guessing that the INS was looking for you, not because it was a mistake, but was informing you of the possibility of deportation…"

Sherlock hung his head.

"Whose idea was it?" Gregson looked at Joan and then at Sherlock.

"Not his." Joan defended Sherlock. "I thought of it and I put the plan into action. It was all me."

Captain Gregson raised an eyebrow. "_Really_?"

"Yes. I know I've committed a terrible crime but please, you have to understand. I don't want him to go…He's my best friend…" Joan trailed off as Gregson held a hand up to stop her.

He eyed her suspiciously. "You know how much trouble you're in, right?"

"I do." Joan closed her eyes.

Detective Bell looked at the two consulting detectives in front of him and Gregson. Bell sighed and looked at Gregson. "I'm in if your in."

Sherlock's head jerked up in surprise.

Joan opened her eyes and gave Gregson a pleading look.

Captain Gregson sighed. "Count us in."

…

"One group down, one to go." Sherlock spoke as they exited the NYPD.

"I already talked to my parents. Looks like they expected it too." Joan laughed.

"When did you talk to them?" Sherlock hailed a cab.

"I sent them an email on the way over. They're coming to New York this Friday." Joan jumped into the cab that Sherlock had hailed.

Sherlock got in and told the driver an address. "How'd they take it?"

"They took it well…They're _excited_ for the wedding…" Joan looked out the window uncomfortably.

They sat in silence for awhile before Joan noticed they were going _away_ from the Brownstone.

"Where are we going?" Joan looked at Sherlock inquisitively.

"Dress shopping." Sherlock smiled and took her hand in his.

_**THANKS FOR READING! SORRY THAT THIS CHAPTER WASN'T AS EXCITING! IT WAS JUST A FILLER :P.  
ONLY A COUPLE MORE CHAPTERS (PROBABLY ONLY THREE MORE)…  
PLEASE FAVORITE/FOLLOW!  
PLEASE REVIEW! REVIEWS MAKE ME UPDATE FASTER!**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**I'M EXTREMELY SORRY THAT IT HAS TAKEN SOOOOO LONG FOR ME TO UPDATE. I'VE BEEN SICK AND HAD TO CATCH UP ON SOME SCHOOL WORK. NOW THAT I'M ON SPRING BREAK, I CAN WRITE MORE CHAPTERS AND PROBABLY FINISH THE STORY. ENJOY!**_

"How does this one look?" Joan stepped up on the bridal run-way and stood in front of the mirror so she could see herself. She was wearing a mermaid style dress with a sweet-heart neck-line and a golden sash around her small waist.

Sherlock was sitting in one of the white chairs along the wall and sat up straighter when he caught sight of her. "Wow."

Joan turned and found Sherlock staring at her with his mouth slightly open. "What did you say?"

Sherlock snapped his gaze away and stood up quickly. "I said it looked nice…" He looked at the ground, embarrassed.

"You really think so?" Joan turned towards the mirror again and looked herself up and down.

"I mean, I'm a consulting detective with the _New York_ police…not the fashion police. I don't know what looks good or not…" He continued look at the ground.

Joan turned and frowned. "You're not looking at me…"

Sherlock peeked up at her and found her frowning at her reflection. "I think you look…" He looked away, "Beautiful…"

Joan bit her lip. "I just don't know…Usually you go dress shopping with your mother or some friends. They help you with the big decision of whether or not to get the dress."

"Then pretend I'm your mother." Sherlock joked.

Joan smiled. "I'd rather not…" Joan looked at her reflection and frowned. "They help you make a decision and know what makes you look best. Since I'm by myself, all I see are the flaws."

Sherlock jerked his head up. "Flaws?" He stepped up on the run-way and stood behind her in front of the mirror. "You have no flaws."

Joan smiled and turned to look into his eyes. Joan didn't realize how close he was standing by her until she turned and her face was mere inches from his face. She looked into his sparkling grey eyes and found herself entranced.

Sherlock looked into her deep brown eyes and smiled. "You look amazing."

Joan blushed and looked away.

Sherlock reached up and tucked a strand of her jet-black hair behind her ear. His hand lingered and he felt himself leaning in.

Joan's breath hitched in her throat.

"So how's the dress shopping going?"

Sherlock stepped away quickly and turned to look at the blonde woman standing in the archway. The way she was dress suggested that she was the main sales clerk of the bridal shop.

"Have you found your dress?" The blonde woman glanced at Sherlock and then back at Joan. She stepped into the room and stepped past Sherlock so she could stand by Joan. "You look gorgeous!"

Joan smiled. "Thank you. I don't know if it's for me though…" Joan looked at the price tag, "Wait…this dress is eight thousand dollars?"

"This is a Pnina Tornai wedding dress…what did you expect?" The lady cocked her head to the side. She didn't think eight thousand dollars was a lot considering that was a custom Pnina.

"Do you like it?" Sherlock asked Joan.

"I…I love it…but Sherlock, it's so expensive." Joan looked at the dress again in the mirror.

"Don't worry about it. If it makes you happy, that's all that matters. Forget about the money." Sherlock smiled and handed over his credit card to the blonde woman whose name plate read Angela.

Angela smiled and admired Joan's slim figure. "It does look beautiful on you." She received the card from Sherlock. "If you want to go back to the dressing room, Yvette will take measurements and we'll ship your dress to the store. It'll be here in a few weeks."

"We kind-of need it by next Tuesday…" Joan exchanged a glance with Sherlock.

"Tuesday? Ms…?" Angela trailed off.

"Watson." Joan blinked.

"Ms. Watson, it takes at least three weeks for the dress to ship to the store and an additional two weeks to four weeks for fitting." Angela explained.

"Is there any way you could rush the shipping and the fitting?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know…" Angela gripped the credit card in her hand.

"It doesn't matter how much it costs to rush the dress and have Yvette fit it for Joan. I'll pay for all the fees." Sherlock stole another look at Joan in her beautiful dress.

"I could have them ship it overnight, but sir, there is going to be a huge charge…" Angela looked at the credit card in her hand.

"That's fine, as long as it gets here on time for the wedding." Sherlock smiled.

"Okay, I'll call in the order then." Angela smiled and went to ring up the order.

Joan grinned. She stepped down from the run-way and Sherlock turned to face her. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him.

Sherlock was surprised at first, but immediately wrapped his arms around her after the shock wore off. "I'm glad that you're happy. You deserve to be."

…

"Joan Watson?" A voice called over the noise of the bar.

Joan looked around for who called her name. Her eyes swept across the bar and her eyes settled on a familiar face. Joan crossed the floor with a smile on her face. "Michael?"

"Woah, it _is_ you. You look…amazing." Michael admired her.

Joan laughed. "Thank you."

"How long has it been?" He patted the stool next to him as he sat down.

She took a seat next him. "Oh, I don't know…" Joan counted on her fingers, "Four years?"

"Wow. It _has_ been awhile." Michael took a drink of his beer.

"Yes it has." Joan replied. They sat in awkward silence for a minute before Michael spoke up again.

"So, why are you here? Don't surgeons have to be awake in the morning and be hang-over free?" Michael laughed.

Joan looked down at the bar and forced herself to laugh. "Well, yes…but I'm not a surgeon. Not anymore."

Michael raised his eyebrows. "Really? What are you then?"

"I _was_ a sober companion." Joan brushed the hair out of her face.

"Was?"

"Yeah. Now I'm a consulting detective with the NYPD." Joan smiled as she said her new occupation out-loud.

"Really? That must be an interesting job." Michael smiled warmly.

"You have no idea." Joan looked up into his eyes and felt herself smile even more. Now she knew why she had had such a huge crush on him in college. "So, what do you do?"

Michael groaned. "I _used_ to be a pediatrician…then I got laid off."

"Oh, I'm sorry. When did you get laid off?" Joan turned towards him slightly.

"I've been without work for about…nine months? No… eleven. Eleven months." Michael took a big swig of his beer and put the empty bottle on the bar counter.

Joan put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. Have you looked for another job? Maybe Marie could help you get a job with her." Joan suggested.

"Well, actually…Marie and I split up. She left with the kids after I lost my job." Michael tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it wouldn't go down.

Joan rubbed his back and gave him a small hug. "I'm so sorry. I wouldn't have brought it up if I would have known."

Michael looked down. "It's okay." He let her rub his back for another moment before running his hand through his hair and getting up. He sighed. "I probably should get going. It's pretty late." He paused and waited for Joan to reply.

"Yeah…I guess I should be going too."

"You didn't even have a drink. Do you want me to order one for you? I could put it on a tab." Michael offered.

"No, I'm fine. I shouldn't be turning to alcohol to solve my problems." Joan bit her lip as she realized she had said too much.

"Problems?" Michael cocked his head to the side.

"It's nothing…" Joan looked away and hoped he would drop it.

Michael took the hint and took a pen out from his pocket. He grabbed a napkin from the bar and wrote his number down. He returned the pen to his pocket and gave her the napkin. "Call me anytime. I'd love to see you again."

Joan smiled and received the napkin. "Likewise."

Michael leaned in and gave her a small peck on the cheek while giving her a goodbye hug. "Goodbye, Joan."

Joan kissed his cheek too and hugged him back. "Goodbye, Michael."

Michael released and walked out of the bar.

Joan watched him walk out and sighed. She looked down at the napkin with Michael's number on it and frowned.

_What's happened to me? I used to be in love with this guy and it was always my dream to get his number. Now I have his number and I feel nothing…Shouldn't I be feeling butterflies or…something? If I'm always complaining about not having any relationships, shouldn't I be happy that a man that I have loved all my life has finally showed interest in me? What's holding me back?_

Joan sighed and crumpled the napkin up.

She crossed the floor towards the door and promptly tossed the crumpled up napkin in the garbage, therefore leaving her past behind her. She was with Sherlock now and nothing would change that.

_**THANKS FOR READING! I'M NOT REALLY SURE HOW MANY CHAPTERS ARE LEFT…PROBABLY TWO OR THREE…  
PLEASE FAVORITE/FOLLOW AND REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!**_

_**TO SEE WHAT JOAN'S DRESS LOOKS LIKE, MESSAGE ME AND I'LL GIVE YOU THE LINK...FANFICTION ISN'T LETTING ME POST IT.**_


	10. Chapter 10

**FRIDAY:**

"What time are your parents arriving?" Sherlock brought two bowls of cereal to the table and set one down on the table in front of her.

"I'm not sure. All they told me was that they were coming to New York on Friday. I should probably text my mom…" Joan reached for her phone across the table and unlocked it. She started to text her mother when suddenly Sherlock put his hand over the screen.

"You're going to _text_ her?" Sherlock arched an eyebrow.

"Yes…why?" Joan eyed Sherlock inquisitively.

"I just find it peculiar that you'd rather text your mother than actually speak with her…" Sherlock removed his hand from her phone and leaned back in his chair. "Did you two have a falling out?"

"No…Why do you ask?"

"Because you refrain from speaking to her directly. You _emailed_ your mother to tell her about our new…relationship…and now you're texting her to ask her a simple question. A _normal_ daughter would love to call her mother and hear her voice. Especially since you two live far apart ever since you moved here for medical school. I'm guessing that the 'falling out' was due to your career change from highly respected surgeon to sober companion…or how your mother sees it, 'babysitter'." Sherlock deduced.

Joan shot him a glare and looked back down at her phone. "Fine." Joan stood up and hit the dial button. She walked to the other end of the room and waited for her mother to answer.

Sherlock watched her walk away and he felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. He knew her so well. He could deduce so much about her, yet she never ceased to amaze him. He wasn't expecting to gain a friend from the nightmare that was a sober companion. She was more than just a friend to him; she was his soon-to-be lifelong partner. Too bad it was just a temporary thing…

"Four o'clock." Joan spoke as she approached him and took a seat in her chair.

Sherlock snapped out of his thoughts and stared at her. "What?"

"My parents…they're coming at four." Joan eyed him warily. "Everything alright?"

"Hm? Oh! Yes. I was just thinking about how soggy your cereal must be by now…" Sherlock took a bite of his cereal and set the bowl on the table. He rubbed his hands on his thighs and sat forward. "You have a fitting today. You don't want to be late." Sherlock smiled.

Joan took a couple bites of cereal and set the bowl down. "Are you coming with me?"

"I actually have some errands to run…I'll meet you back here at two-thirty so we can have an hour-and-a-half to clean up and get our stories straight." Sherlock picked up his bowl and set it in the sink.

"Errands? What kind of errands?" Joan peered at him suspiciously.

Sherlock smirked and walked out.

"Sherlock? Sherlock!" Joan hopped up from the chair and ran to the front door. She was too late, he was long-gone. Joan groaned and ran up the stairs to get her receipt from the bridal store. "Looks like I'm on my own." Joan grumbled to herself.

…

Sherlock scanned the diner until a woman made him pause. She waved him over and he obliged.

"Mr. Holmes, nice to meet you." Emily stood up and offered her hand.

Sherlock shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, too. How did you know who I was?" Sherlock took a seat at her table.

Emily sat down at the table and smiled. "Joan explained you pretty well…"

Sherlock smirked and crossed his arms. "She showed you pictures, didn't she?"

Emily laughed and looked at the table. "Yeah…I hope you don't mind. I wanted to see the famous Sherlock Holmes. I kind-of forced her to show me."

"I don't mind. She's not my companion and isn't under any restrictions anymore so she can do whatever she wants." Sherlock smiled.

"Okay good. I just don't want to get her in trouble." Emily looked away and sighed. "So…why did you call me to meet you here?"

"Joan and I have something that…um, well…that we wanted to tell you…or invite you to." Sherlock observed Emily's expression closely. He didn't want to make her mad and ruin Joan's friendship with her.

Emily cocked her head to the side. "What is it?"

Sherlock rubbed his hands on his pants and cleared his throat. "Now, you need to promise me something. If I tell you, you cannot let this interfere with the relationship you have with Joan."

Emily laughed nervously. "Okay…? I promise."

"Okay…" Sherlock took a deep breath and thought through his words carefully, "Well, about two months ago, I asked Joan to…um…be my wife…" Sherlock paused and took in Emily's reaction.

Emily narrowed her eyes. "And?"

"And…the INS didn't believe us so they're making us get married again…I contacted you today to see if you would like to attend the wedding." Sherlock rushed through the sentence, scared that Emily would stop him.

Emily stared at him with an expression he couldn't read. "Why didn't she tell me?"

"We eloped two months ago to spare ourselves the drama of family and friends." Sherlock continued to observe her closely.

Emily looked hurt. "I thought we were friends, Joan and I…We tell each other everything…or so I thought." Emily stood up and gathered her coat and purse.

Sherlock stood and helped her with her stuff. "Please don't be angry with her. Be angry with me; I was the one who suggested eloping without anyone knowing."

Emily paused and glared. "I don't care whose idea it was. I'm her best friend…we told each other that we would never have secrets, ever."

Sherlock was speechless. He knew if he said anything else it would just make Emily even more mad.

Emily turned to leave but paused. "I've been worried about her ever since she decided to become a sober companion because I knew it was some sort of penance for killing that patient. We lost touch for a long time because of you. I thought that she would move on from you like every patient before you, but no. You offer an apprenticeship to a broken woman because you knew she would take it. I don't know how you got her to say yes and I don't care. I just want you to know one thing. You're not good enough for her. She's been at rock bottom and I will not allow her to go there again. All you are is an alcoholic addict who, from my understanding, is broken beyond repair. A lost cause. A child. Joan deserves better." Emily stormed out, leaving the broken addict behind her.

Sherlock stood staring after her. He unclenched his fists and looked around. The peanut gallery, who were watching the fight like it was entertainment, avoided his gaze. He ran his hand through his hair and left the diner in a hurry. He had to talk to Joan.

…

Joan's fitting hadn't taken long. She was in and out in an hour and was now headed towards the Brownstone. She looked at her watch and noted the time. 1:30pm.

She walked up the steps to the door and opened the door. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

"Watson!"

Joan jumped and relaxed when she realized it was just Sherlock. "God, Sherlock! One of these days you're going to give me a heart attack!"

Sherlock appeared in the archway leading to the dining room. "I'm sorry, Joan." He walked towards her and helped her strip off her coat.

Joan eyed him suspiciously. "Thank you?" She knew he either had done something terrible or wanted something.

Sherlock hung up the coat and turned towards her. "You're early."

"The fitting only took an hour…What are you doing here? Don't you have errands?" Joan followed him into the parlor and started to pick up the random files off the ground.

"Finished early…So how was the fitting?" Sherlock asked, nervous. He didn't know if Emily had called her and told Joan about the argument.

"It was okay…" Joan stacked the files on the desk and turned to look into his eyes. "You're acting weird…even for you."

Sherlock avoided her eyes. "I'm fine…" He took a deep breath and bravely looked her in the eyes, "really." He tried a smile and began cleaning again.

Joan wasn't fooled but decided to drop it. She thought this would be like how she learned about Irene. He would have to bring it up when he wanted to talk about it; she couldn't press him for information. "Okay."

Sherlock glanced sideways at her and bit his lip.

_I don't think Emily has told her anything…she would've been cross with me if she already knew…_

"So where are we going for dinner?" Sherlock made some small talk while they cleaned.

"I was thinking Rye's Revenue. It's fancy but not _too_ fancy." Joan smiled.

"Great choice." Sherlock smiled at her and turned back to cleaning.

…

Sherlock emerged from his room wearing a black tux with a white shirt underneath and black dress pants with black dress shoes. He fixed his tie and didn't notice Joan walking down the stairs.

Joan was wearing a maroon strapless dress with six inch black heels. She had a sparkly black clutch purse in her hand and a diamond necklace around her neck. She had decided to curl her hair and apply makeup that accentuated her natural features. She reached the bottom of the stairs and walked over to where Sherlock was standing.

Sherlock was standing in front of a mirror in the parlor trying to fix his tie. He heard Joan's heels clicking up behind him and he spoke without turning to see her. "Ready?"

"I'm ready…are you?" Joan walked up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Need help?"

Sherlock turned to look at her and his jaw dropped. He looked her up and down and took in all her curves. "You look…"

"Too fancy?" Joan looked at her dress and frowned.

"Beautiful. I was going to say beautiful." Sherlock continued to admire her.

Joan reached for his tie and began to fix it. She tightened it and brushed off his tux. "Now _you_ look handsome." She smiled.

Sherlock grinned. "This is the only tux I own. I'm not used to it." Sherlock itched his arm.

Joan laughed softly. "Well you look very handsome in it." Joan looked him over. "My parents will be here in about five minutes. Are you ready?"

Sherlock nodded and walked to the hall closet. He retrieved their coats and helped Joan into hers. They walked out onto the doorstep and waited for Joan's parents to show up in the limo.

Sherlock was standing so close to Joan on the doorstep that he could feel the heat radiating off of her. His hand was so close to hers that if he would've moved just a little bit, their hands would bump together.

Joan shivered and Sherlock noticed immediately. He removed his coat and put it around her shoulders over her coat. Sherlock put his arms around her and rubbed her shoulders to try and make her warm up.

Joan leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She wanted time to stop and stay in his arms forever. She was so comfortable and it felt…right. It was like she fit perfectly in his arms and belonged there.

A car horn made her eyes flip open. Sherlock began to walk down the stairs to get the sidewalk and Joan sighed silently.

Another moment ruined.

_**THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE REVIEW, FAVORITE, AND FOLLOW!  
JOAN AND SHERLOCK'S OUTFITS ARE THE ONES FROM THE PICTURE ON THIS STORY. **_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Please review this chapter…I need to know if it's good or not. Lol :)  
ENJOY!**_

"So, when did you two finally realize your feelings for each other?" Joan's mother smiled at the adorable couple across the table.

"The day after I lied to him about his father renewing my contract as his sober companion. I knew I wanted to stay with him, but I didn't know why…well, not at the time anyway. I thought it through and I realized that I was interested in more than just his job as a detective. He amazes me every day and his work is invigorating." Joan explained, sneaking amorous glances at the detective beside her.

Sherlock smiled and placed his hand over hers, under the table. "Thank God for lying."

Joan's mother grinned. She could almost feel the love between them; it was almost like it was coming off of them in waves. "And when did you know you loved my daughter?"

"Mom…" Joan rolled her eyes. She was embarrassed enough; she didn't want it to become humiliating.

Sherlock squeezed her hand to show her it was alright. "I never wanted a sober companion…I was extremely against it. Little did I know, the one and only thing in the world that I didn't want would become my best friend. She helps me out tremendously and never ceases to amaze me with everything she does. The day that she agreed to be my apprentice –partner-" he corrected himself, "was the day that I finally realized…I love this woman. Your daughter is the single most important thing to me in the world. She loves me for all quirks and temper tantrums...and I know how hard it is to love someone like me. I have, all my life, rejected any sort of human contact and affection out of fear of losing them. I was about to lose Joan, but, to my surprise, she stayed...and I couldn't be happier. I look at this woman," Sherlock looked into Joan's deep brown eyes and his tone softened, "and I see the most perfect, most intelligent woman. When I realized my feelings, I knew, then and there, that I must always be with her. I used to think she was a crutch, someone to use when available, but now I see, she is not a crutch…just someone I need to be with and want to be with for the rest of my life…I love you, Joan."

Joan's smile had widened and she felt herself blush. She knew he was only saying what they had practiced and what her mother wanted to hear, but, deep down, she felt like some of the things he had said, he said out of truth. Joan couldn't help but think that Sherlock meant what he said. "I love you too."

Joan's mother looked over at her husband and he smiled. Mr. Watson took his wife's hand and squeezed it.

"Why didn't you tell us about the relationship, Joanie?" Mr. Watson asked with a smile so she knew he wasn't angry, just curious.

"That is entirely my fault, sir. I thought we should keep our relationship under wraps until we were sure that it would work out. I would hate to disappoint the family…" Sherlock spoke up to defend Joan.

Mr. Watson nodded. "I'm not angry at your choice to not tell us…I just wish we would've been in the loop."

Joan's phone started to ring and she looked at the screen. "Excuse me; I have to get this…" Joan stood and headed for the door to take the call outside.

Sherlock watched her go and felt uneasy. He was now alone…with her parents…

Mr. Watson noticed Sherlock's nervousness and spoke up. "No need to be nervous…We aren't mad."

Sherlock turned towards them and gave a sheepish smile. "I'm really sorry about not telling you…I should've."

Mr. Watson chuckled. "Don't worry about it, boy. We're glad Joan has you."

"Ever since she lost that patient, she's been distant. You've made her become less distant and opened her eyes by showing her that everyone makes mistakes. We were worried about her career change to an investigator, but with you as her guardian, we believe that this was her destiny. I'm very glad she has you. She deserves to be happy and you clearly make her the happiest person in the world." Mrs. Watson smiled and placed her hand on his, "You're good for her."

Sherlock smiled and Mrs. Watson pulled her hand away as Joan sat back down at the table.

"Who was that?" Mr. Watson asked, interested.

Joan looked pale and Sherlock gave her a concerned, questioning look.

"Um…Work…" Joan was shaking and Sherlock placed his hand on her shoulder.

Sherlock whispered in her ear, "What's wrong?"

Joan gave him a worried look and he could tell she was on the verge of tears.

Sherlock felt his heart drop. What could possibly make her this upset? She had seen dead bodies, dealt with traumatized kids, and even seen a naked drug dealer. Whatever happened must've been extremely terrifying to make her this emotional.

"Joanie, are you alright?" Mrs. and Mr. Watson looked at their daughter, their faces masked with concern.

"Yes…I-I…Sherlock and I need to go…" Joan stood up and pulled Sherlock with her. "I'm sorry mom, dad…We need to leave," Joan glared at Sherlock, "now."

"Okay…I guess we'll see you at the wedding, then." Mr. and Mrs. Watson exchanged confused expressions.

Joan bit her lip and pulled Sherlock out of the diner, onto the sidewalk.

…

Sherlock followed Joan into the brownstone cautiously. She was either scared to death or extremely pissed off…or both…

"Joan, what's the matter? You didn't speak to me at all on the ride over here and you seemed extremely shaken up at the restaurant." Sherlock followed her into the kitchen. "What happened?"

Joan turned around and glared at him. She must've seemed really hostile because Sherlock retreated three steps back. "You want to know what's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong. That phone call at the restaurant…it was from Noah. He told me that his boss wants to hurry this case along because another pressing matter had come up."

Sherlock furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"We have to get married…_tomorrow_." Joan glared at him.

Sherlock froze. "Tomorrow?"

Joan spoke through gritted teeth. "Yes."

"Is that why you're so angry…? I thought we were comfortable with the idea about us getting married, waiting a year, and getting a divorce…" Sherlock eyed her apprehensively.

"I'm not mad about that." Joan clenched her fists.

"Are you going to make me guess?" Sherlock looked at her clenched fists and took another step back, fearful that he was about to be struck.

"You talked to Emily."

Sherlock froze. "Um…yes I did…" He started to sweat.

"Why?"

"I thought that it would be a nice surprise to have your best friend at the wedding…I was just trying to make you happy."

"Do you even know what you did?" Joan took a hostile step towards him and noticed him tense up. "After Noah called, Emily called. She explained what happened at the diner."

"And?" Sherlock recalled the hurtful words said by Emily and frowned.

"She said she can't trust me anymore. I didn't tell her for a _reason_, Sherlock. I knew that if I told her, she would blow it all out of proportion. She knows about how you were an addict and knows about what you did with Sebastian Moran."

"You told her?" Sherlock glared at her.

"Of course I told her! I tell her everything!" Joan threw her hands up in anger.

"You tell her everything?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

Joan knew what he was implying. "No. I didn't tell her about Irene."

Sherlock bit the inside of his mouth. _Don't say anything. Don't say anything._

"I wouldn't tell her about Irene. I know my boundaries but you clearly don't!" Joan raised her voice.

Sherlock closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He kept telling himself not to say anything; it would just make everything worse. He always made things worse.

"I lost a friend today because of you!" Joan felt a tear roll down her cheek. She wiped it away before he could see.

"What?" Sherlock opened one eye to peer at her.

"She told me that since I hid something from her, she doesn't trust me! I kept a secret from her...a BIG secret. It was going great until you had to open you big mouth and make a mess of everything!"

"I didn't mean to break up your friendship…" Sherlock spoke softly. He was afraid that he was going to set her off.

Joan scoffed. "You never mean to! That's not an excuse! You should've told me before you took matters into your own hands."

Sherlock's jaw locked. "I tried to make you happy. It seems that making you happy is _impossible_." Sherlock knew he had just crossed a line.

Joan glared and grinded her teeth.

"Keep in mind that you do not have to do this. I never even asked you to help me."

"Help you with what?"

Sherlock ignored her. "I know this marriage is what broke up your friendship. There is a clear solution for you to make up. All you have to do is cancel the wedding."

"You know I'm not going to do that to you. I'm doing you a favor-"

"_Favor_? I never asked you do me a favor. I was perfectly fine with going home to London. You had to go and make up this whole lie because you were trying to help me. But did you ask me what _I_ wanted? No." Sherlock bit his cheek to stop himself from saying more.

Joan stood with her mouth agape in shock. "I was helping you. I saved your ass."

"My _ass_ didn't need saving." Sherlock tried to hold back what he said next but failed. "You know what? Don't even bother showing up tomorrow. I don't need you. I don't love you."

Joan felt like her heart had just been ripped from her chest. "You know what? Fine." Joan ran up the stairs and into her room. She slammed the door and leaned against it when it was closed. She put her back to the door and slid down the door until she was on the ground. Joan put her head in her knees and let the tears come.

Sherlock stood staring at the spot Joan had been before she stormed off.

_I've screwed everything up. Why on earth did I say that I didn't love her? I do…I do love her…_

Sherlock felt as though he had just solved the most complicated mystery in the world.

"I love you Joan Watson."

_**THANKS FOR READING! I THINK THERE WILL ONLY BE TWO MORE CHAPTERS :P. THE GOOD NEWS IS, I HAVE ANOTHER STORY PLOT READY TO GO! IT'LL BE SHORTER THAN THIS ONE BUT IT'LL BE INTERESTING!  
PLEASE FAVORITE, FOLLOW, AND REVIEW!  
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_**^.^~*HAPPY EASTER!*~^.^**_


	12. Chapter 12

Joan knocked on Emily's door and waited anxiously.

Emily opened the door and sighed. "Hi, Joan. Come in."

Joan obliged and walked in past her. She made her way to Emily's living room and sat on one of her plaid couches. "I'm really glad you agreed to meet me so I could explain…"

Emily sat in a plaid chair across from Joan. "Explain then."

Joan frowned at her friend's angry tone. "There are a number of reasons I didn't tell you about my relationship with Sherlock…for one, it's not even real."

Emily was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"A little while ago, Sherlock was summoned by the INS and they threatened to deport him because of the whole Sebastian Moran thing…" Joan paused and tried to remember if she had told Emily about M.

Emily nodded and motioned for her to continue. "You already explained the incident with Moran to me. Go on."

Joan cleared her throat and continued. "I didn't want him to leave, so I went to the INS headquarters and told them that I was married to Sherlock…"

Emily arched an eyebrow. "_You_ told them?"

Joan nodded. "Sherlock and I had an agreement that we would get married and then after a year, get a divorce. He would be able to stay in the U.S. permanently and we could get back to just being working partners…but it's over now…he told me not to show up at the wedding."

Emily was quiet for a moment. She was trying to absorb all the information and decide if she accepted the reasons that Joan kept this huge secret from her.

Joan shifted uncomfortably on the couch. This silence was just adding to her anxiety.

"Okay." Emily broke the silence.

"Okay?" Joan was filled with happiness. Maybe she wouldn't lose her friend after all.

Emily laughed. "Yes. Okay. I forgive you."

Joan laughed in relief and stood up. Emily stood and Joan gave her a big hug. "Thank you. I couldn't stand not being your friend."

Emily smiled and hugged Joan tighter. "I'm so glad I have my friend back. I don't have to worry anymore."

Joan pulled away, confused. "Worry? Why did you worry?"

"Well come on, Joan." Emily laughed. "This whole detective thing was a joke. Were you trying to punish your parents for something? Is that why you continued to stay with Sherlock?"

"Where did _that_ come from?" Joan stepped back from Emily's reach.

"Joan, I was so worried about you. First you lose a patient, then you become a sober companion, and now, you're a 'detective'. Your boss is your ex-client! You clearly stayed on with him to punish someone. Is that why you also made this whole elaborate lie about being married to him?" Emily watched Joan get angrier with every word she spoke aloud.

"I didn't stay on with him to punish anyone, Emily. I stayed on with him because I'm interested in his work." Joan crossed her arms.

"Joanie, what did he do to you?"

"What do you mean? He hasn't _done_ anything to me!"

"You used to be so level-headed and now…well, now you're being senseless. He's influencing your judgment and not in a good way. Like I told him yesterday, he's not good enough for you. He's just a broken addict and he does not deserve you." Emily frowned.

Joan gasped. "You told him that? How could you?"

"I spoke the truth." Emily eyed Joan suspiciously. "Why do you care for him so much? He's just an addict."

"No, no he's not. He's much more than that. If you would've just gotten to know him, you'd understand. He's not _just_ an addict, he's my friend. My _best_ friend." Joan emphasized 'best' in 'best friend' just so Emily would be hurt. "Now, if you excuse me…I have a wedding to get to." Joan started to head towards Emily's door.

"Joanie, wait." Emily stopped her.

Joan paused, but didn't turn around.

"I'm sorry." Emily apologized softly.

Joan shook her head and left her _ex_-friend's apartment.

…

"Sherlock, where's your _fiancée_?" Trent smirked.

Sherlock glared at Trent. "I don't know."

Trent kept the stupid smirk on his face as he turned to take his seat in the wooden pews of the church.

Sherlock knew Joan wouldn't be showing up, but decided that he should still show up to the church to make everyone believe that Joan had left _him_ at the altar. Hopefully, Noah would take pity on him and let him stay…It was a weak plan, but he had to try something…he didn't want to leave. Sherlock's eyes swept the church, hoping that he would find Joan staring back at him with a small grin on her perfect lips. He wanted her to be there; wanted her to forgive him. But, he had told her not to show up…so why would she?

Sherlock let his eyes sweep across the front row of pews and he met Mrs. Watson's gaze.

Mrs. Watson gave him a small empathetic smile.

Sherlock faked a smile and snapped his gaze away. He looked around at the wedding-goers and noticed they were getting antsy. People kept looking towards the door where Joan should've entered from five minutes ago and were exchanging confused expressions with each other.

"Is she coming?" Ryan Owens, the priest, asked in a hushed tone.

Sherlock shrugged. "Maybe she decided otherwise."

"You don't seem broken up about it…" Ryan arched an eyebrow and eyed Sherlock inquisitively.

Sherlock shrugged again and ducked his head.

Another moment passed and the murmuring from the anxious wedding guests grew louder.

Sherlock couldn't make out anything that was being whispered between guests but he could guess.

_Where is she? Is she even coming? Did she leave him at the altar? _

"So it would seem that the lies were too much for Joan…" Trent stood up from the pews and spoke loudly across the church.

"I told you, we didn't lie." Sherlock glared at him.

Mr. and Mrs. Watson looked at each other and then at Trent. "Lies?"

"Yes. Mr. Holmes here and your daughter have committed fraud. They told us they were married two months ago, yet none of you knew. I find it a little suspicious, don't you?" Trent smirked.

Mr. and Mrs. Watson looked to Sherlock for an explanation.

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

"See?" Trent motioned to Sherlock. "He is a liar. And now, he's a liar that is going to be deported."

Captain Gregson stood and addressed Trent. "He isn't a liar. I've observed his relationship with Joan and they are definitely an item."

Detective Bell stood and chimed in. "I agree with Captain Gregson. I've had the chance to observe their behavior too and it practically shouted 'in love'."

Mr. and Mrs. Watson stood together and joined the conversation. "We had dinner with them last night…The things Mr. Holmes said about our daughter could not have been faked…You could see the love they shared between them."

"So they're convincing actors…that doesn't prove that they aren't lying." Trent retorted.

"You want the truth, Trent?" Sherlock advanced towards him. "Here's the truth. I love Joan. She is my world and I'm not just saying that. I've said some stupid things and I wish I could take them all back. It's my fault she isn't here and I regret it. Even though she will probably never forgive me for what I've said, I will continue to love her no matter what. You wanted the truth and that was it."

Trent took a step back and ducked his head; a gesture of giving up.

"I love you too." A small voice echoed from the back of the church.

Sherlock looked up and so did everyone else.

Joan was standing in the doorway, in her Pnina dress.

Sherlock's jaw dropped. "Joan?" He stumbled towards her, but paused, fearful that she was still mad.

"I'm sorry I'm late…I had to stop and get my dress from the bridal shop…" Joan started towards Sherlock slowly, as though he were a wild animal and would bolt at any second.

"You came?" Sherlock was staring at her beautiful small figure in the Pnina gown. He was still frozen in place when she approached him.

"Of course I did. I wouldn't miss our wedding." She stopped in front of him and fixed the flower in his breast-pocket. Joan smiled and met his gaze.

"But, what about Emily…?"

Joan put a hand up to stop him. "Forget her. If she were really my friend she would've understood." Joan put a hand on his cheek. "She told me what she said about you…being a broken addict and all...I want you to know that none of what she said is true. You may be broken but…so am I. We can be broken together."

Sherlock brought his hand up to his face and put his hand over hers on his cheek. "I love you so much."

Joan smiled. "I love you too."

Sherlock grinned and grasped her hand. He lightly pulled her towards the priest and they took their spots to begin the ceremony.

The wedding guests settled in –even Trent and Noah took their seats quietly- and the ceremony began.

"We are gathered here today to join these two love-birds together in holy-matrimony. If there is anyone who objects to this marriage, please speak now or forever hold your peace." Ryan paused. "I believe that Mr. Holmes has written some vows." Ryan nodded towards Sherlock.

Sherlock took Joan's hand and looked into her deep brown eyes. "When I first met you, I loathed you," pause for some laughter, "I never wanted a sober companion, but now I'm glad my dad forced me to have one."

Joan smiled.

Sherlock continued, "I never knew that out of the one thing that I never wanted, I would gain a friend…and my true love."

Joan blushed and ducked her head.

"Joan, do you have any vows prepared?" Ryan asked.

"Yes. Sherlock, I thought that the reason I stayed on with you as a partner was because I was so interested in your job…now I see that it was for something much more than that. I found myself missing you when you were gone, feeling empty when we fought, and feeling like I could never live without you when the INS said you were going to be deported. I love you too much to let you go that easily." Joan giggled and Sherlock squeezed her hand.

Ryan smiled. "I think we can all agree that these two belong together."

The audience cheered.

"Sherlock, do you take Joan to be lawfully wedded wife?" Ryan asked.

"I do." Sherlock smiled.

"And Joan, do you take Sherlock to be your lawfully wedded husband?" Ryan asked.

"I do." Joan replicated Sherlock's smile.

"Then I now pronounce you…husband and wife! You may kiss your bride!" Ryan stepped back so Sherlock and Joan could have their moment.

Sherlock dove in and to his surprise; Joan wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled him closer and their lips met.

Sherlock forgot about the world around them and kissed her with intense passion; almost like he needed her kiss to live.

Joan kissed him back and she felt as though they were the only ones in their own little world. She wasn't uncomfortable with his lips touching hers; in fact, it felt like this was meant to be.

Sherlock pulled away after awhile, not because he wanted to stop, but because he needed air. He was breathing heavily and Joan was doing the same.

The wedding guests were on their feet, clapping.

"And now, for the first time ever, I introduce Mr. and Mrs. Holmes!" Ryan announced.

People cheered and the Captain came over with Bell to congratulate the lucky couple.

"Congrats man!" Detective Bell playfully punched Sherlock's arm.

Sherlock grinned. "Thank you both for coming and standing up to Trent for me –or us." He corrected himself.

"No problem. Technically, we weren't lying because anyone with eyes could see the love between you two." Captain Gregson smirked.

Joan blushed and leaned her head against Sherlock's shoulder.

Sherlock politely excused himself from the conversation and pulled Joan away from the crowd to speak in private. "About what I said yesterday…"

Joan put a finger to his lips. "Consider it in the past. I forgive you."

Sherlock smiled and Joan leaned in to kiss him again.

"I love you Sherlock Holmes." She spoke when she pulled away.

Sherlock grinned. "I love you Joan _Holmes_."

_**THANKS FOR READING! ONE MORE CHAPTER! :D**_  
_**PLEASE FAVORITE, FOLLOW, AND REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!**_


	13. Chapter 13-Epilogue

**_EPILOGUE: _**

Joan sighed as she plopped down on the couch out of exhaustion. "That was _quite_ a day."

Sherlock sat down next to her and laid his head back on the back of the couch. "You're _telling_ me." He replied as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Joan giggled and snuggled up to him. "I'm just glad it's over. I never want to see Trent or Noah again."

Sherlock pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her. "Me neither."

Joan closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. "So, I've been meaning to ask you something…"

Sherlock sighed. "Hmm?"

Joan opened her eyes and looked up at his face. His eyes were still closed, but she continued to look at his face anyways. "About the original plan…"

Sherlock opened his eyes and found Joan looking at him. "What about it?"

Joan looked down at her hands and shrugged. "I don't know…Like, are we going to stick to the plan or…?"

Sherlock realized what she was asking and placed his hands over hers. "You're asking if we're going to get divorced or not."

Joan kept her gaze directed at her hands (which were now covered by his hands) and nodded.

Sherlock took a finger and placed it under her chin. He lifted her head up so she was looking into his eyes. "Well, that's up to you, Watson."

"Joan."

Sherlock cocked his head to the side. "What?"

"Call me Joan. If I'm going to be your wife, you're going to have to call me Joan. Besides, my last name isn't Watson anymore, silly." Joan winked.

Sherlock chuckled. "But, you're still Watson to me. I can't be Sherlock Holmes without my Watson."

Joan laughed. "Okay, but make sure you don't call me Watson around Noah or Trent…that is if we ever see them again."

Sherlock smiled. "I don't think we will. We showed them that we are, indeed, in love. They saw us get married; they shouldn't be after us for anything else."

"Good. I don't want you to ever leave me." Joan rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes.

Sherlock smiled and closed his eyes as he rested his head on the back of the couch again. "I will never leave you Joan. I promise."

…

"You know what I just realized?" Sherlock strode into the kitchen and walked up behind Joan. Joan was in front of the sink, doing the dishes. He hugged her from behind and put his head on her shoulder.

"What did you just realize?" Joan asked, in an amused tone. She continued to clean the bowl in her hands as he hugged her.

"We didn't have a honeymoon." Sherlock kissed the side of her head and released her from his embrace. He sat down in one of the dining-room chairs and continued to watch her clean.

Joan reached for a towel to dry her hands and laughed. "Oh yeah? What do you call last night?"

Sherlock felt himself grin as he replayed the events of the night before. "That was…amazing, but it wasn't a honeymoon. The point of a honeymoon is to go _away_, not stay. We could do what we did last night anywhere…" Sherlock crossed his arms. "We should go somewhere…but where?" He asked himself.

Joan came over to where he was seated and sat on his lap. "You don't have to spend more money on me…A honeymoon would cost a fortune."

"Not necessarily…price depends on where we go. Besides, you're my wife…I want you to be happy."

"I am happy. I'll be happy as long as you're by my side." Joan kissed his cheek.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her tight. "I still want to give you a honeymoon, though."

Joan rolled her eyes. "Fine." She started to think of places to go.

"Bahamas?" Sherlock asked with a shrug.

Joan burst out laughing. "No, no. I will not be seen in a bikini."

"Why not? I've seen you naked, why would you be embarrassed about being seen in a bikini?" Sherlock smirked.

Joan swatted him on the arm playfully. "No Bahamas."

Sherlock laughed. "Fine. How about…" Sherlock's brow furrowed, signaling to Joan that he was in deep thought, "Italy?"

Joan thought about it. "No..."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Well, how about you tell me where you want to go? I'm tired of being the only one suggesting places." He smiled to show her he meant it as a playful joke.

"Okay then…" Joan thought carefully. She didn't want to go anywhere tropical; the sun was not kind to her skin. "I have an idea."

"Oh yeah? Where do you want to go?" Sherlock asked.

Joan wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. "I've heard London is beautiful around this time of year."

Sherlock grinned. "London it is then."

**_THANKS FOR READING! I'M NOT SURE IF I'LL MAKE A SEQUEL OR IF I'LL MAKE ANY STORIES GOING OFF OF THIS ONE BUT ONLY TIME WILL TELL!  
IT WAS GREAT WRITING THIS STORY FOR ALL MY FANS AND I PROMISE THAT I WILL CONTINUE TO WRITE MORE STORIES ABOUT THESE TWO! I GUESS YOU COULD SAY THAT I AM REALLY OBSESSED WITH THIS SHOW AND OUR BELOVED HOLMES AND WATSON. :)  
PLEASE FAVORITE/FOLLOW AND REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!_**

**_I'D LIKE TO THANK: marshmallowdeviant (especially because you found this idea on Tumblr!), 4ea, SanctuaryObsessed, halaA, Dina C, ImaniSechelles, BethGisborne, writerfan2013, CAMMIE17, Elementarymydearjoan, ThePenIsMighty, A fan, Jane Q. Doe, mmkbrook, Ms. Jynesis, DaneWoakes31, Alexis, artzannie25, Murasakionfire, jason, blueberry24, FrancescaBoscorelli, CelticCrossings, IconoclasticGentleman, Ange Noir, ElishaTheCrazed, alliecat8697, Elementary Fan, inasentimentalmood, spam, KawaiiChibiWolf, Miffy, Opalbrat, Ingrid-matthews, TeslaGirl221B, Karen, LucyMiller, Random, Girl, Cecilia, a great fan, mk162r18619, CountryGirl6556, dizuz, Mariana, and all the guests who didn't have names! :D Thank you all for reviewing and making me want to keep writing and continue this story. Without you, this wouldn't have been possible…sooooo THANK YOU!_**

**_BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR MY NEXT NEW STORY…THOUGH I MAY HAVE TO FINISH DOG DAYS FIRST! _**

**_~HAYLEY aka IMAGINETHIS22_**


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